"Yeah, sir." A young man that looked like he was full of energy a few minutes earlier was now seated at the front, legs up on a hovering table and chewing god knew what. He had barely managed to keep awake during the commander's speech and had completely zoned out during the first part of the briefing. Blah blah blah Death blah blah. Mmkay. Air drop. Pfft. He could do much more than that. He'd piloted a X-185 with only 40% structural integrity into the heart of a Harovii Battle Starship's Hangar and blown the whole thing apart. And now he was reduced to an air drop. It was outrageous. Bloody ankle. He briefly glared at his right ankle, which he had never forgiven for getting himself permanently injured and unable to sprint. Yet maybe there was one thing he could do. "Am I allowed to sweep the windows?" Please, please yes. If no? What an exciting second mission.